When No One is Watching
by Lovely Rita Girl
Summary: After a case is finished, and before a new one begins, follow the BAU team when they find themselves on their own time.
1. Chapter 1

**When No One is Watching**

**Summary:** After a case is finished, and before a new one begins, follow the BAU team when they find themselves on their own time.

**Legality:** I do not own anything Criminal Minds; I am simply borrowing them to tell a story, and not using them for profit.

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_"Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they've all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe."_

— Neil Gaiman (A Game of You)

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Chapter One: "Good Night (Prologue)"

This was the calm after the storm, though there wasn't much calm to it at all. The case was closed, and now everyone involved was ready to go home. The paperwork had been excruciating. The prospect of a night to relax and a morning to sleep-in loomed over all the agents' heads. It may not be a weekend, but it was the closest they could get, and it was all they needed before getting up and having another escapade all over again tomorrow (after lunch, of course). A night of sleep in their own respective beds and four whole extra hours before returning to the office left the excitement in the air palpable; the bees were buzzing in the hive over it, so to speak.

All around the bull pen, the agents were a-flitter: filing the last papers, making sure they had everything for home, washing their coffee cups, checking the paper work (all the lines signed, the t's and i's all crossed and dotted, respectively), and glowing, faint hints of smiles on their tired faces as the promise for relaxing evenings all around were to be had.

Agent Hotchner seemed to be the only exception. He was in a hurry, as the others, but he did not smile as they did; he had no sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he briskly exited from the little kitchenette, coffee cup in hand, with a fresh wave of steam dancing to a crescendo above the rim of the mug before billowing in his wake. He continued steadfast and stone-faced all the way to his office this way, and half closed the door behind him as he retook his seat behind his desk, his hand resuming its position supporting his forehead once he sat.

"Now there's a gloomy bear," said Penelope Garcia. She had watched the agent as he left the kitchen and gulped down the last of her own cold coffee before going into the small accommodations herself to join Agent Emily Prentiss by the sink.

"Think we should invite him to come along with us tonight?" She asked of the dark-haired Prentiss.

Penelope rinsed her cup quickly and hung it to air-dry on the cup tree right below the spot where Hotchner's mug should have been hung. She and Emily turned to leave the kitchenette together while Emily answered, "I don't think he would appreciate the distraction."

"Oh please," the red headed tech responded, "everyone can use a booze distraction, especially tonight!" This was a statement that was enough to perk the ears of one Derek Morgan.

Emily snorted and shook her head as the two walked back to her desk together, "No, I mean the knocking on the door distraction. And the asking the question distraction." She plopped back into her chair and crossed her legs in a sort of uptight recline, just as Agent Derek Morgan glided over to lean on the half-wall.

Always the ladies' man, he shined his winning smile and used his velvet voice to say, "Going out for drinks, ladies? Is that what I heard?"

"Yeah, we're planning a bit of a girls' night out," Emily grinned back. "It's nothing too big, just a beer or two before going home to bed."

"Beer?" Garcia snorted, "Speak for yourself. I'm going to get a Long Island. Or three." Noticing Derek again, she added, "But, we could possibly make an exception on the 'girls' part for a big hunk of chocolate bear like yourself if you wanted to come along." Penelope teased him a little further with a soft, pointed poke to Derek's shoulder.

Derek stifled a laugh and stood himself upright. "Well, that does sound interesting," he started, "but I wouldn't want to impose. Besides, I got me some plans _in_ tonight." He rubbed his hands together in that qualitative way, suggesting he had something delicious planned for his night _in_. "Delicious" was, of course, open to interpretation.

"Oh, really? Me too." Agent Spencer Reid's voice piped from just beyond the barrier. "I thought it'd be nice to just relax on the couch," he finished.

Derek anchored his feet and leaned his top half over to the boyish agent to cock an eyebrow at him. "What," he said, "you gonna watch the Star Trek marathon on tonight or something?"

"No, I was going to read some Asimov," Spencer answered, confused, while still sitting out of view of the girls. "Wait," he added, "there's a Star Trek marathon tonight? How'd you know about it? Is it TOS or TNG?"

"I'm teasing you, kid." Morgan chuckled. He reached to ruffle Spencer's hair, who leaned just out of reach of Derek's arm and before Spencer could respond, the rustic voice of Agent David Rossi barked from the back of the pit sounding the alarm to grab coats and personal possessions.

"There is jazz to be heard and dancing to be had," he called to them, "so let's enjoy the night." He added emphasis to his words by giving a demonstration of "jazzy" dancing as he hopped down the steps to the rest of the agents.

"Alright, old man," Derek called back to him, chuckling.

"Old?" the senior agent responded, "Aren't you the one talking about spending the night in?" The spring in his step and optimism of his voice as he walked to the where the others were centered reminded the four younger agents to do as they were told (though, they needed not be told twice). Now, with even broader smiles on their faces as before, they scrambled to grab their things as Rossi called the elevator. During the mayhem, Penelope spotted young, blonde Jennifer Jareau slipping out of Hotchner's office and back to her own.

"You there, with the fire under your butt," Garcia called to her, "are you sure you can't make it out with us tonight?"

JJ fired back a warm smile to her friend and responded, "I've still got too much work to get done. Maybe if I wrap it up early enough, I'll give you a call."

The elevator dinged then and the doors glided opened, offering the small box that promised freedom from worry behind them. The agents on the floor piled in while Spencer haphazardly held on to his coat and made a dash for the lift. As he stepped inside, Rossi chided him saying, "I almost let it close on you kid, but then I wouldn't get to see the look on your face."

Spencer gave a sheepish smile and nodded his head as the doors closed, sealing the following laughter into the elevator, and the deafening silence of their wake within the large room. The only sounds left were a keyboard tip-tapping away behind a half closed door, papers whispering their turning from behind another, and the soft tick-tock of the clock above the elevator.

That clock above the elevator read 8:18, and thus, the night officially began.

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**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading, and I hope you stick with me on this story. Any comments, reviews, and/or criticism will be highly valued and appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**When No One is Watching**

**Summary:** After a case is finished, and before a new one begins, follow the BAU team when they find themselves on their own time.

**Legality:** I do not own anything Criminal Minds; I am simply borrowing them to tell a story, and not using them for profit.

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed, favorited, or added this story to your alerts. I take it as quite the compliment that you were able to jump on board with me on this so early in the story! I hope you enjoy!

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_Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies_.

-Mother Teresa

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Chapter Two: Jennifer Jareau

Of course JJ knew better. Of course she knew staring at the papers wasn't going to make them less horrible to read, less awful to the victims and their families, or less...there (she'd really prefer if they didn't exist to be sorted through at all). But, so many hours of sifting and reading and choosing and ranking (wait. How many hours has it been? The clock on her desk read _9:52_. Damn, it had gotten late) and it's all she could do any more: just stare at the papers.

How do you choose which better merits the attentions of the FBI? In California: college students disappear, one every full moon, like clockwork. In Colorado: women trying to settle down and make a family are abducted, killed and dumped, but the timing is erratic and so far unpredictable. So which does she choose? The women working to create new life, or the children who have lived enough to know what they're missing, but still not have experienced it? How do you choose?

So she started staring at the smooth manila again, tip-tapping her pencil away with the sound of the clock. _Tick. Tap-tap. Tock. Tap-tap. Tick. Tap-tap. Tock. Tap-tap._ Hark. It was the Deserted Office Symphony in valuable-time-being-wasted major. Her eyes began to wander then, as they always did, to the smiling face on her desk that peeked from behind the stacks of files: little Henry in his blue cap, giggling in Will's arms. She felt the warmth rush over her as she locked eyes with those in the photograph, and the precious blue cap.

That blue cap had been pretty generic, actually. Bought at some chain superstore because it was cold outside and Henry lost the hat he had been wearing in the parking lot. The hat had looked so darling on him that she bought the three-pack, because she was sure she could find use for the other two hats as well. And then she wondered if any of those mothers in Colorado bought hats like those for the children they planned to conceive...

The sharp jolt of a distant crash sounded from somewhere outside her office door. JJ sat upright and looked out her office windows to the bull pen, hoping to visually locate the sound. Everything was still. She convinced herself she was hearing things. It was, after all, almost 10:20 now, according to her clock (had she really just spent that much time thinking about Henry's blue cap?), and her eyes weren't going to hold out much longer. She decided it was time to go home now or risk falling asleep at the wheel.

She slid the manila folder with _Boulder, Colorado_ labeled on it over the similar folder reading _San Diego, California_. She made the best decision she could. Or was it? Yes, yes it was. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to move on from her decision before beginning the process of clearing the other files from her desktop. She liked having a clean space to return to in the morning so as to mentally prepare herself for the briefing.

When she finished moving the files, JJ picked up her coffee cup and attempted to finish the contents within; but, they had faded to cold, and held a stale flavor to them. She spit the sip back into the cup and wiped the remainder off her lips as gracefully as she could without a napkin while she carried the cup to the kitchenette. The cup tree was full except for two branches, hers and Hotch's. She dumped the coffee and swished some water around the base of her mug to lighten the ring that had grown inside, while noticing the little chips of white ceramic lining the drain of the sink. She dumped her water and hung the cup on her vacant spot on the tree, watching the water drip down the base and on to the counter top.

She really was feeling tired if she could so easily be hypnotized by water dripping.

In her office (and truthfully, she had kind of blanked on how she got there), JJ wrapped her coat around herself, finding the task to prove more difficult than usual because of the fried feeling in her brain. Oh, and she was holding the manila folder again. That...would make this menial task harder, wouldn't it? She set the folder down again (this time absolutely firm in her decision on it. Right?) and buttoned the four large red circles that ran down the front. Wait, they were wrong. She undid the three offending buttons and redid them, this time more carefully, lining them up and sliding them in to their button holes and...they were wrong again. Oh, what_ever_.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and finally considered herself ready to walk out of her office. She closed the door behind her with the toe of her shoe and made her way down through the bull pen. The clock over the elevator read _10:29_ and JJ found herself hoping that the others were having a good, fruitful night. As long as they were able to have a fun time tonight and the ability to sleep in tomorrow, it was worth her staying late and keeping so exhausted. She didn't need to validate this or verify it in her brain, either. That, she knew to be absolutely right and true.

Thinking of Rossi "dancing" down the steps as she stepped down them herself brought an unsolicited smile to her face as she called the elevator. She dared not hide or suppress the smile, as no one was there to be confused by it. JJ decided that was "a beautiful thing", as William had always said.

A door slammed behind her.

JJ jumped and the smile ran away from her face as she spun on her heel to the source of the sound.

"Will you hold that?" he asked as the elevator _ding_ed open.

She felt the smile return. It was good to know that, even when she forgot, there was always one other person in the office with her. "Sure thing, Hotch," she said as she stepped into the lift while holding the door open for him. He followed her inside and sighed heavily as the doors closed. She watched as his shoulders visibly lost their tension, and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked even more haggard than she felt.

"I thought you had gone home?" she asked (mostly in case he had become aware of her staring).

"I thought you thought that," he turned his head slightly to look at her and mirrored her smile back to her. That smile had the ability to take ten years off his face, she found herself noticing. "Oh," he added, "your coat's buttoned wrong."

JJ snorted, and clapped a hand over her nose to suppress it. Shocked, and amused at the sudden sound effect, she found herself snorting again. This time, Hotch seemed to find it funny too, and leaned against the elevator wall to laugh a hearty and simultaneously somehow-silent laugh.

"I know." She managed to get out. "It was a 'thing' before I just gave up."

Before the second round of laughing could commence, the elevator doors slid open to reveal the parking garage. Immediately, the two agents regained their composure. After all, there were cars still left in the parking stalls, and they were very serious cars. No more of this silly laughing. I mean, what were they even laughing about? Coat buttons aren't that funny.

Seriously, she said, "Good night, Hotch," as she reached her car.

"Good night," he said back, and paused to look over her coat again. A snicker and a smile emerged from his lips, and she found the same happening to her as he walked off and she clicked her car to unlock.

JJ climbed into the driver seat. Mentally, she went over the checklist as she got ready to drive home: seatbelt, mirrors, ignition...she was set. The radio screen flashed some station's name while playing that song by that American Idol winner. She pressed the power button on the stereo to _off_. It changed itself to her clock. _10:34_, it told her. She put the car in reverse.

Pulling out of the parking garage, JJ turned down the street and began her drive home. Little patches of steam rose up from the sewer covers, the streets were black, and the stars were completely hidden behind clouds so dark, she couldn't see them against the night sky. The streetlamps threw orange light into her car and the beams danced rhythmically. Her mind began to wander to that place. She wondered if she only picked the Colorado case because of her maternal bias. She wondered what was happening to those kids in California. And then there were the missing elderly in Mississippi, the three women murdered in Illinois, the juvenile delinquents suspected of killing two men in New Jersey. It was so, so hard to think that any of these cases mattered less than any other. Still, those mothers-to-be. But, was it right?

Something darted out of a bush on the side of the road and JJ slammed on her breaks. No cars were behind her and the -was that a possum? Yes, that was a possum- stood paralyzed from fear about twenty feet in front of her passenger-side front tire.

It hissed at her, its yellow teeth shining in her headlights. She revved the engine and flashed the high beams. The possum admitted defeat and scattered to the other side of the road.

"You're welcome," she muttered as she drove past where the possum had been; slowly, of course, in case it came back.

She turned down her street and saw that Will had the living room light still on. He was waiting up for her. This was home, and the thought made JJ smile again (it was easy for her to smile when she was tired. It was her go-to outside of the office, after-all). She parked her car and pulled her things from it, locking it up with her clicker behind her.

Inside the house, she set her purse down on the coffee table her aunt had given her, just like she always did, and went into the living room to find Will half asleep on the sofa, and Henry bundled up in one of her ratty house-sweaters and practically snoring beside him.

"Hey," she said, kissing the top of Will's head. "What are you watching?"

He yawned and simultaneously answered, "I'm not sure. I think it's called 'Eulogy'? It's not too bad."

JJ looked at the screen to see two twin boys requesting of their dark-haired mother to make an erotic cake for their birthday. "Not too bad, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's going off now." And the screen went black as William set the remote back on the coffee table.

"I'll just put the Little Prince to bed," she said, scooping up Henry in her arms over the back of the sofa, careful to leave the sweater behind. He gave a half-yawn, half-lip smack into her shoulder once she had him lifted, but never opened his eyes. She kissed his forehead and carried him into his little blue room.

The glow-in-the-dark clock on the wall over his crib told her it was ten to eleven. "No wonder you're so far asleep," she whispered to him, "I wish I were too." Little Henry sighed softly and she kissed his forehead again, this time allowing the kiss to linger, willing it to permeate her love for him into whatever dream he was having. His mouth opened and closed and his little fingers curled around the air before relaxing as she set him into the blue crib.

He'd be too old for this crib soon, and they'd have to get him his own big boy bed. JJ thought about this as she pulled up the little rocking chair next to his sleeping head. She was a little terrified of him growing up. What if she couldn't handle him? What if she was away working the entire time that he was growing, and he never learned who his mother was and how much she loved him? These were the thoughts of her nightmares, and she shook them from herself as she wound the little mobile that hung above him.

A tinkering lullaby began to play, ever so softly filling the room with its tinny sound. She hummed along and smoothed Henry's hair over his forehead. She would have sung, but she had long since forgotten the words to this tune. He cooed in his sleep in response to her humming. He was quiet and soft and still, sleeping in that crib. It was a dramatic change from last week's cold and his crying. She was just happy the hell of being sick was over for him; for now, anyway; who knew what the next cold season would bring? Would she be able to get the time off to take care of him again? The fears continued to cluster in a dark cloud in the back of her mind.

She leaned over the rail to kiss his forehead again, but this time the sleeping Henry tilted his head into her kiss, brushing his little nose against her lips. Even after two years of loving him, every little thing he did was still the most amazing miracle to her, and so she kissed him again. She took in his scent: baby shampoo and fabric softener. The tin lullaby ended finally, and the little glow-in-the-dark clock lit up and softly chimed that it was eleven o'clock.

In the distance, outside the window, JJ could hear the faint _chop-chop-chop_ sound of a helicopter. The noise continued to grow louder as the helicopter approached, so she went to Henry's window and closed the little crack that had been left open to filter out the sound. As she did so, she noticed the helicopter had its search light going, so she drew the heavy curtains over the blinds, and watched as the bright spotlight created lines of white through the cracks of the blinds, creating streaks of light on the curtains.

Henry didn't stir. She resumed her seat by him.

"Your dinner's still on the counter, though it's probably long past cold by now," William's voice whispered from the doorway. His soft, southern accent warmed her with familiar comfort. "You want I should heat it up for you?"

"That's alright," she whispered back, "I can get it in a minute. I just want to sit with Henry some more." She tugged at the ear of a stuffed Pooh sitting at the foot of Henry's bed. She felt an unexplainable guilt that she wasn't around more.

He smiled at her, "He missed you today," he said, crossing the room to stand next to her, "kept looking around for you. I guess he doesn't like how I feed him or something. I think he just tolerates me." She could hear the grin in his voice; a small consolation prize for the increase of her guilt.

"I'm not sure I'm home often enough for him to know what he's missing," she confided.

This time it was William's turn to bend down and kiss the top of her head. "Yes he does," he told her, "and he's always excited for every minute he spends with his mommy, and that's a beautiful thing." He ran his hand through her hair as she let that information sink in. "I'm going to bed," he added, "you come on in when you're ready." He leaned over farther and kissed her gently on her lips, and with that, left the room.

She sat for maybe a minute more before going to the kitchen and finding her plate of food. Meat loaf and mashed potatoes, wine in the fridge, and William in bed waiting for her. All the Southern Comforts. She popped the plate into the microwave, and before she could begin punching numbers, she noticed the clock on the timer panel read _11:11_. She made the same wish she always did: that Henry would be happy. The clock ticked to _11:12_ and her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Pulling it out, she noted that the caller ID read "Strauss".

Oh no. The Helicopter.

She answered, "Agent Jareau." She paused. "I understand. Yes. Of course. I'll call the team." She sighed as she pulled the phone from her ear. She looked longingly at the food sitting in the microwave, the clock still daunting its time beside her still-cold meal. She took a deep breath and punched the number into her phone.

"Hotch," she said, "It's JJ. We have a case..."

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**Author's Note:** If you couldn't tell, yes, I will be dedicating each chapter of this fic to a specific member of the team to follow them in their off-hours.

Any comments, reviews, constructive criticism, or even your favorite jokes, will be more than welcome, and I hope you return next chapter. Thank you so much for reading!


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